Hail to the King
by trancepanda
Summary: Manic: a Freedom Fighter and kinda-sorta reformed thief. Scourge: a criminal who owes a lot of money to Mobotropolis' biggest crime family. And to think, all of this could have been avoided if Scourge hadn't blown up Bartleby's mansion and stolen Manic's hover board. MANOURGE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter One**

**A/N: Well hey everyone, before we start this long (or short-lived depending on feedback and such) journey I'd like to point out that I have switched up my writing style a bit in an effort to make this story a bit more…light-hearted I suppose. So, it would be really helpful if you would give me some feedback on how you like this style and whether or not you want me to continue writing like this.**

**Anyway, as always I ask you to review and leave you to enjoy the first chapter.**

* * *

The aristocratic part of town had always made Manic feel uncomfortable, he wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was the stark contrast from the squalor of the rest of Mobotropolis and the posh-ness of the row upon row of mansions. It could have been the fact that he and his brother stuck out like sore thumbs, or in this case, hedgehogs with fur the color of a popular secondary and primary color respectively. Or, he supposed it could be the fact that the only times he had visited the area previously was to rob the arrogant richies blind.

The green hedgehog nudged the accelerator pad on his hoverboard and caught up to Sonic.

"Hey bro why do we always gotta go with Sonia when she visits Bartlebutt?"

Manic brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead and shot Sonic a curious look from the corner of his eye.

His brother snarled slightly, "Because Manic I don't trust that guy. What if one day he decides to-"

KA-BOOM!

Whatever Sonic was going to say was cut off as the upper floor of Bartleby's mansion exploded violently. The hedgehog triplets were thrown back from the force of it. Manic's hoverboard flew out from under him, Sonic was thrown onto his back, and Sonia bounced off the pavement once, twice, thrice before coming to a stop.

The world, from Manic's point of view anyway, was thrown into complete chaos. He was laying spread eagle on the ground and could hear panicked shouts, sirens, and the crackling of nearly white hot flames even over the ringing in his ears. Everything dimmed and then rapidly went back to normal as his head recovered from its smack on the ground. He could feel his hands stinging which meant that the road had torn through his gloves and made an unpleasant acquaintanceship with his palms.

"…oooowww…."

Manic propped himself up onto his elbows and looked around blearily. Both his siblings seemed to be in the same dazed what-exactly-just-happened state that he was in, although Sonia did look slightly worse-for-wear seeing as she had been closer to the mansion as it exploded.

"Guess you're not the only one who doesn't like Bartleby, bro"

The words were mumbled and scratchy but it was reassuring to hear his own voice, dopey valley boy accent and all.

"WOO-HOO! YEAH!"

Manic's eyes shot upward just in time to see a dark figure, backlit by the dancing flames, come leaping out of one of the upper floors shattered windows. The figure landed deftly on its feet, straightened up, adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder, and ran at Manic's hoverboard, which was still upright and hovering despite being flung yards away by the vicious explosion. He took a running leap onto it and used his momentum to kick start the board's movement. The figure took no time slamming down on the accelerator pad and the board whined nasally as it slowly began to gain speed. As he passed by time seemed to slow in the most curious way. Manic found himself looking into the arctic blue eyes of a hedgehog whose fur was almost the same shade of green as his own. The house fire threw his body into flickering relief, revealing an open leather jacket that partially concealed two jagged scars stretching the length of his chest. Without consciously realizing it Manic began to trace the other hedgehog's muscled chest and stomach with his eyes. The scarred hedgehog appeared to have noticed because he shot Manic a cocky, sharp-toothed grin before slamming down on the accelerator pad again and rocketing away.

There was a moment's pause and then time seemed to return to normal. Manic climbed hastily to his feet and went to check on his siblings. Both of them appeared to be fine, although Sonic was pretty mad and Sonia was practically hyperventilating from fear that Bartleby had been hurt. She shouldn't have worried though; they found the unconscious aristocrat on the porch of the servant house.

"Do you think he's okay?" Sonia asked concernedly, she slapped his face gently, "Bartleby, Bartleby, wake up"

The aristocrat's eyes fluttered open and he looked around blearily for a moment before snapping to his senses,

"Oh, Sonia it was horrible! The barbarian barged in, didn't even give me a minute to call the authorities, and hit me on the head. And look at my home! My beautiful house, destroyed! Do you have any idea how long it will take to repair this kind of damage? Where will I live?"

When Sonia raised an eyebrow and gave the servant's house a pointed glance the aristocrat paled,

"The servant's house? Did you receive a blow to the head, Sonia? I would be living as a commoner! A commoner!" the man wailed.

Manic winced slightly at the volume of the wail and shot Sonic an amused look,

"Oh yeah, Bartlebutt's fine"

* * *

It was the general consensus of the Hedgehog siblings that Manic was the go-to guy when it came to anything to do with Mobotropolis' criminal underground. However Manic _didn't_ know everything about the city's criminals, despite what his siblings (and sometimes even he himself) believed. In actuality the teenager knew very little of the underworld. Ferrel had done his best to keep Manic, and most of the younger children and teens of the Thieves Guild, sheltered from the rest of the city's depravity. All-an-all Manic's criminal knowledge and connections were roughly equivalent to a kiddy pool when placed up next to its Olympic sized counterpart. In the grand scheme of things he was a small-time boy, positively microscopic in the goings on of the underworld. In fact, on Mobotropolis' rather warped criminal respect scale the only type of criminal that was looked down upon more than a thief was a drug dealer. A common underworld expression was '_any motherf*cking coward can sell drugs'. _There are, of course, sayings about thieves but they are all quite vulgar and disrespectful so I shall leave them out.

Now, Scourge (or 'the blue eyed hot dude' as he had already been dubbed in Manic's mind) was not swimming in the kiddy pool, to use the previous expression. No, Scourge was in the Olympic pool, and dangerously close to losing his shit in the deep end. Through a rather convoluted series of events that he didn't remember quite clearly he had somehow managed to upset every gang in the city, from the Babylon Rouges to his own ex-gang the Suppression Squad, and gotten himself into debt with a very dangerous hedgehog that most people called Mr. M. He was, most likely, screwed. Or, barely treading water if you wish to keep with the water and swimming expressions.

However he was going to get some help (not that he knew it yet so, shhhh it'll be our secret) because unfortunately (or fortunately depending on who you are) the Hedgehog triplets had a very bad habit of getting in over their head. And they were about to fall face first into the Olympic pool.


	2. Chapter 2: Meetings with Remark

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything at all. Not. A. Thing.**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter 2: Meetings with Remark**

* * *

Scourge took a sip from his drink, grimacing slightly as it burned like liquid fire down his throat, and resisted the urge to slam his head into the table as hard as he possibly could. For the love of Chaos why couldn't he catch a break? It felt like the universe was going out of its way to screw him over.

"You know," he said bitterly, raising his voice to be heard over the wall-shaking metal music pounding from the stage speakers, "I never thought it'd be you pointing a gun at me"

The energy pistol dug deeper into his back and he took another sip of his drink.

Scourge continued speaking, "and what the hell is with your hair man? You look like some sorta wannabe greaser."

The pistol didn't move but there was a chuckle from behind him, which the hedgehog took as a good sign.

"Wannabe greaser? Aw, mate that hurts," there was a faked sigh and Scourge could just imagine his old friend/rival placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

"So what's the deal seriously?" the hedgehog pushed, enjoying a chance to talk with a somewhat friendly person, despite the pistol digging into his back.

After a moment of silence the pistol disappeared and the skunk, Jeffrey St. Croix, flopped ungracefully onto the chair across from him, pistol still clutched in one hand.

At 27, Jeffrey was a solid decade older than Scourge and he had been a friend (quite possibly his only friend now that the Suppression Squad hated him) and rival (their rivalry had once escalated to the point where they had tried to kill each other, but that is another story for another time) since the green hedgehog's first petty theft. He had been a member of the Suppression Squad until a botched mugging got him a nickel in the city's jail. Since his release he (and his new 'wannabe greaser' haircut) had been working for Mr. M as an errand boy/ debt collector.

The skunk ran hand over his hair and then knocked back a shot he had grabbed from a neighboring table, "Well mate," he said, Australian accent more prevalent than ever, "the deal is that Mr. M wants his money by the end of the month. As for the pistol? Well, I never thought I'd be pointing one at you either, but I am rather enjoying myself"

The skunk smirked but Scourge wasn't paying attention, his nearly empty glass fell from his fingers and rattled on the table top.

"E-end of the month?" he swallowed thickly and picked his glass back up, draining it in one fortifying gulp, "But that's early"

"Yeah well, he's calling in all the debts, city wide. Everyone's got to the end of the month."

"B-but I won't _have_ it by the end of the month"

"You better mate, remember what happened to Demo Duck?"

Scourge felt the blood drain from his face and he shivered slightly.

He did remember what happened to Demo Duck, or at least he had heard the story. Demo was one of the higher ups in Mr. M's organization and had taken out a rather substantial loan to buy Chaos knows what (although one could safely assume it was something explosive). When collection day came around and Demo informed Mr. M that he didn't have the money the dark-furred hedgehog had calmly reached over the desk and inserted a fountain pen into one of the duck's eyes. Demo Duck was still alive; in fact he was now Mr. M's right hand man, but his eye-patch was a constant reminder that you either paid back your debt in blood or money, often times both.

"Yeah, I remember" he said shakily

"And just between you and me mate," Jeffrey paused to light the unlit cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth, "After you pay up, I'd get outta town. Something big is going down."

Scourge focused in on that with frightening intensity. He had always had a, well obsession would probably be the kindest word, with big things. Big money, big guns, big heists, big thrills, big—well, you get the idea, anyway.

"What kinda big things?" he asked, nearly drooling in anticipation.

Jeffrey chuckled, "the kinda big things that make us look like small timers mate" he knocked back another stolen shot and pushed a second towards Scourge.

The green hedgehog whistled, impressed, "Who'd you hear this from?" he asked, lowering his voice out of habit.

"Heard it from Bark—"

"Bark talks?" Scourge asked incredulously.

"Only to people he likes, he can't stand you, not the point." The skunk leaned forward conspiratorially and the green hedgehog had a strong sense of déjà vu. The two of them had spent a lot of their youth hunched over tables in seedy bars, much like this one, planning the Squad's next heist.

"Bark says that Mr. M has been trying to get all the gangs together, Guild remnants, Babylon Rouges, everyone. I know for a fact he sent someone to talk to Jet the other day, but get this," he stubbed the cigarette out on the table and tossed it's remains carelessly onto the floor, "he's been talking to the big boys in the other cities too, Nazo, Feist, you know the ones.

"Nazo? The Mercia cartel's Nazo? You're kidding right?"

"Nah, mate I'm serious. Nazo 'the Butcher of Mercia'. Apparently him and Mr. M are old friends."

"You are shitting me" Scourge said slowly, disbelief obvious in his voice.

Jeffrey shook his head solemnly and continued,

"Still not the big part though, they're gonna stage a coup; de-throne Robotnik and then beat the Freedom Fighters into submission.

Jeffrey paused dramatically but Scourge was unimpressed.

"So there's gonna be a revolution, so what? Sounds fun"

They stared at each other for a moment and then Jeffrey began to laugh

"I knew you were gonna say that," he stood up and tucked the energy pistol back into his leather jacket, "Come on, we gotta job to do"

Scourge knocked back his shot and raised an eyebrow, "We? No, no, no, no. I don't work for Mr. M. There is no 'we'"

Jeffrey rolled his eyes exasperatedly, "Look mate, you need a new crew now that the Squad kicked you out on your ass, yeah?"

Scourge scowled but reluctantly nodded.

"So you come with me, we do some jobs together, I put in a good word to the higher ups, you pay off your debt, and boom! You got a spot in the crew"

The green hedgehog thought about it for a moment. Mobotropolis, the underworld parts of it anyway, could be incredibly dangerous without a gang to back you up. And no one, no one without a death wish anyway, would knowingly screw with any of Mr. M's crew. Plus, if Jeffrey did put in some good words he wouldn't be starting out as a common street thug. The skunk seemed to have gotten a lot more charismatic in prison so he might even start out as a debt collector.

"Does the job pay?" Scourge asked, standing up and dropping his glass carelessly. It shattered against the ground but no one paid it any mind.

Jeffrey looked affronted and ran a hand over his hair again, "Does the job pay? Of course mate. The hell kinda bloke do you think I am?"

Scourge chuckled, "had to check didn't I?"

They stepped out the bar's rusted door and onto the street. The green hedgehog slid his sunglasses down from his forehead and over his eyes. He cast the skunk a side-long look.

"What is the job anyway?"

Jeffrey shrugged carelessly and kicked a chuck of rubble with his engineer's boot, "This street rat, think his name is Max or something, wants to join the crew. Demo wants me to see if he's got what it takes."

* * *

A/N: second chapter is here everyone. Scourge just got a little deeper in the pool.

I'm fairly certain there's a little button lower on this page and it would be totally awesome if you pressed it and dropped a review.

Also none of the characters in this story are OC's. Mr. M was a major villain in one of the Sonic video games (his name wasn't Mr. M but the first letter of his name does start with M. you can probably figure it out from there) and the Max that is mentioned at the end was a character who showed up in one of the _Sonic Underground _episodes. The name of it escapes me but it is the one where Sleet and Dingo try to steal the Duke's tax money by tricking Manic so…well anyway.

The second chapter of _Narcissism_ will be posted this weekend so keep and eye out for that,

Bye-bye and review (yes, I beg. I plead. I grovel)

trancepanda


	3. Chapter 3: There's Going To Be A War

**Disclaimer: I do not own a damn thing**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Manic was walking down the street doing something that was highly out of character for him. He was muttering under his breath, not just muttering but muttering _angrily_. Ever since Bartleby's mansion had exploded Sonia had been nagging both of the hedgehog brothers almost constantly about finding the green hedgehog responsible, and for the love of Chaos he was sick of it. In a city the size of Mobotropolis how the hell were they supposed to track down one hedgehog? It was ridiculous! Given just the sheer size of the city, added to the fact no one had gotten a good look at the hedgehog or had any idea what his name might be, then compounding the universal truth that most gangs (especially in the more dangerous gangs of Mobotropolis) were fiercely closed-mouthed about the activities of their members made it an almost impossible task.

Not that I wouldn't mind seeing the guy again, he mused, but it just won't happen.

He turned onto an adjacent street and caught sight of a familiar shock of reddish-orange hair. Seeing his old friend gave him an opportunity to distract his thoughts and he seized onto it gladly.

"Hey, hey Max! How've you been man?"

* * *

Wave the Swallow was feeling something that was highly out of character for her. She was nervous, very nervous. It had taken three days for her and Storm to locate the two pieces of Extreme Gear that had been stolen from the Workshop. And for past three days the leader of the Babylon Rouges (who was still simmering angrily because of the messenger that had arrived several days back) had been slowly growing angrier and angrier. And Jet really, truly hated to lose (he had, more than once in fact, physically attacked Storm over a game of poker) so that pressure was adding up at an alarming rate and if Wave knew the green hawk he was going to explode soon, and the explosion would be incredibly violent. As she approached the door to Jet's room she could feel the floor vibrating with the bass of some kind of techno song and could hear the sound of energy weapon discharges from the hawk's target practice. Knowing that the teen wouldn't hear her if she knocked she simply opened the door and screamed as a laser bolt burned itself into the doorframe less than a foot from her head.

"Jet! What the hell!?"

Jet the Hawk was reclined lazily in a regal looking armchair, feet crossed in front of him, head propped on one fist and energy pistol tapping irritably on the arm of the chair.

"What do you want Wave?" the boy snapped irritably, lifting the pistol up to eye level so he could sent another energy bolt into the door frame.

Wave jumped again despite herself as the white-violent ray passed near her head.

"Stop that dammit!"

Jet growled and threw the pistol at her. She dodged it easily; she was well used to her leader's violent temper tantrums. He viciously pushed himself up off the chair, ran a rough hand through his dark tipped feathers, and got into her face, his own face thunderous.

"Have. You. Found. The. Gear?"

Wave nodded and, instead of looking relieved like she had expected, Jet's expression grew even stormier. She felt another stir of nervousness in her stomach.

"Where is it?" he asked viciously.

"H-here" she stammered holding out a small electronic map on which two red dots blinked, signifying the Gears location. Jet pulled it harshly from her hand and looked at it intently, face darkening even further. After several moments of almost frenzied studying he looked up,

"Are you sure this is accurate?"

The purple swallow bristled slightly at the unintended jab at her technical skills, "Of course it's accurate Jet, I'm not an idiot."

The stormy look disappeared and Wave felt the nervousness begin to ebb but the look of vicious triumph that transformed Jet's face by almost manic proportions brought the unease back at full-force.

"Jet," she said, trying to keep her voice slow and soothing, "let's not do anything crazy here."

"Crazy?" the hawk looked genuinely confused, "we're not going to do anything crazy."

"Oh good" the swallow sighed, relieved, "So what are we gonna do then?"

"We're gonna kill them and get our Gear back."

"Kill them?!" Wave sputtered, "I thought you said we weren't going to do anything crazy!"

"It's not crazy Wave. They robbed us. No. One. Robs. Us. They screwed us over and I'm not going to let them make me look soft."

"Make YOU look soft?! Is that what this is? Some messed up ego boost? Are you really gonna kill someone over your personal image."

"This isn't the time for one of your stupid psychological exams Wave. Pack your shit; we roll out in five minutes."

Wave stared at the hawk, disbelief clear on her face. She had heard Jet say that he would kill someone before but she had never taken him seriously. Now, though, she wasn't so sure that he was bluffing, the look on his face was just short of terrifying.

* * *

Scourge leaned back against the wall, sighed, idly tapped the ash from his cigarette, and then stared at the cancer stick with a look of mild disgust flitting over his features. He wasn't sure what bugged him more, the fact he had 'quit' two years ago (he had fallen asleep (well past out more like, but…semantics) with one in his mouth and had woken up to find that it had fallen out and left a burn less than an inch away from a very _sensitive_ area) or the fact that a few days hanging around with that annoying red head had sent him running at top speed (and for Scourge top speed was real damn fast) back into the habit. He pushed his sunglasses up his forehead and pinched the skin just above his eyes in an attempt to stave off a headache.

He and St. Croix had been in this alley for half the day alternating between smoking, riding around on the Extreme Gear they had stolen on the first day of Max's testing, and watching the red-head's amateurish attempts at thievery. Quite frankly Scourge was getting annoyed, _very _annoyed, and when he got annoyed he tended to act rashly.

"St. Croix can we bail soon? I mean we've been at this for three days and that kid hasn't done anything other than pick a couple pockets and rob a bakery. Didn't even help us jack the Extreme Gear. The kid's small time, face it."

The skunk hummed in agreement, "you're right mate. Bringing this kid into big business would be like dropping a hurt cow into a river full of piranha," he sighed, "Alright lets go tell him—wait a minute, who's that?"

Jeffrey pointed to the green hedgehog who was chatting away with Max.

Scourge puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette, "He looks real familiar," he muttered mind racing as he tried to place the shaggy haired teen. The revelation hit him like a lightning bolt, or a precision missile strike, "Oh shit," he exclaimed excitedly, "that's the guy! That's the guy I stole the hoverboard from! Pretty sure I blew up that fucker's house too!"

After a moment of stunned silence Jeffrey started to laugh, bending over to rest his hands on his knees for support, "you…haha…house…(*pant, pant*)…haha…shit…really?"

Scourge laughed along with his friend and smirked smugly, "yeah, really. Shoulda seen the look on his face," he mounted the stolen Extreme Gear, "come on, lets go say hi"

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter they meet! Hahahahahahahaha cliff hangers ahoy!hahahahah I'm a dick…**

**reviews would be super awesome by the way!**


	4. Chapter 4: Search and Destroy

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter 4: Search and Destroy**

* * *

Scourge finally gave into the urge to slam his head against the wall. Of course, this didn't help anything; it just gave him a slight headache and made the grimy looking bricks waver in and out of focus for a few seconds. It was official; it was a Chaos-damned fact now. The universe was going out of its way to screw him over. It was fricken' unbelievable, not only had he lost his Extreme Gear (it wasn't really his but that was _not_ the point) and been chased by a psychopath, he was also stuck hiding from the aforementioned psychopath with…_him._

Scourge scowled darkly and glared at the other green hedgehog, who was seated against the alley's opposite wall with his legs stretched out in front of him. The drumsticks he had produced from Chaos-knows-where were tapping against the ground in a convoluted rhythm that set the scarred hedgehog's sharp teeth on edge.

This is complete bullshit, Scourge seethed.

He put a cigarette into his mouth and sunk his teeth deep into the filter. The harsh smoke invaded his lungs and the hedgehog sunk to the ground, pulling one leg up so that he could rest his chin on his knee. He took another vicious drag of nicotine.

How did this even happen anyway?

* * *

_Dun-duhn-duh FLASHBACK:_

_Scourge and Jeffrey shot out of the alley and made a beeline for Max and his companion._

"_Well, hey hey Max. Who's this?" Scourge asked, his voice a drawling mixture of jauntiness and scorn. He maneuvered the Extreme Gear expertly, turning and lowering it so that he could throw an arm over the red-headed teen's shoulder. A sharp toothed grin was all it took to make the other hedgehog's black eyes widen in recognition and surprise. Those eyes quickly dropped to his chest and widened even further as they traced along his scars. Scourge's smile widened slightly and he shifted so that his jacket fell away and revealed even more of the scars._

_Black eyes met his blue and Scourge opened his mouth to say something about the other hedgehog checking him out but was beaten to the punch._

"_You're the guy that blew up Bartlebutt's house"_

_For one of the first times in his life Scourge was at a loss for words…that was one of the last things he expected to hear._

_The boy took his surprised pause as an opportunity to go on, sounding annoyed, "Sonia's been bugging me around the clock for days about trying to find you and you just show up?! What the hell! Max how do you know this guy?"_

"_I…I…I" Max was spared from giving an answer as a white-violet ray barely missed his head. The red head let out a squawk of fear and shot off at full speed, ducking under Scourge's arm as he tried to stop him, and disappearing into an adjacent alley. The shaggy haired hedgehog started off after him but another laser bolt cut him off, missing by inches. Scourge turned and let out a curse as he saw a demented looking Jet the Hawk bearing down on them, flanked on either side by an eager looking Storm and an apprehensive Wave. Jeffrey, who had been largely ignored up to this point wrenched his energy pistol from his jacket and returned fire. _

"_What the hell St. Croix?!" Scourge spat, ducking to avoid being shot, "I thought you said Mr. M sent someone to talk to these assholes!"_

"_He did" Jeffrey replied. He carefully lifted the pistol to shoulder level and aimed, ignoring the white-violet ray that passed close enough to singe his hair. The skunk squeezed the trigger once and the laser bolt struck Storm in the chest, sending him toppling from his Gear. Wave screamed and went to her friend's aid, Jet pushed on towards them, yelling and firing wildly._

_Jeffrey brought his Gear about face and sent another bolt blindly over his shoulder. It missed and Jet's retaliatory bolt hit the skunk in the arm. He cursed loudly, gritting his teeth against a scream of pain and his pistol dropped from his fingers. St. Croix cursed again, pressed a hand against the partially cauterized wound to stem the sluggish flow of blood, and turned to Scourge. _

"_Jet Chicken must have a Chaos-damned deathwish" he spoke in fast clipped tones, much like the ones he had used back in the day just after any of the Suppression Squad's plans had went bottoms-up, "Grab the kid and let's go"_

"_Grab the kid? You're shitting me, why?"_

"_He could get hurt."_

"_How the hell is that my problem?"_

"_This isn't the time for your bullshit Scourge!" the skunk snapped, he grabbed the shaggy haired hedgehog (it occurred to him then, in that part of the brain that always seemed to have the most inane thoughts at the most inopportune times, that he still didn't know the kids name) by the vest and bodily dragged him onto Scourge's Extreme Gear._

"_Let's GO!" he shot off down the street, weaving in and out of the fleeing civilians without a backwards glance, still holding his wounded arm._

_Scourge cursed colorfully and slammed down onto his Gear's accelerator pad. It rocketed into motion with a fierce jerk and the unnamed hedgehog actually had to wrap his arms around his waist to keep from being thrown off. The scarred teen scowled down at the thin arms wrapped around him and resisted the urge to elbow the offender in the face and knock him free. He pushed the desire down and followed St. Croix through a convoluted series of streets that failed to shake their demented avian pursuer. And, to make matters worse, the Gear was running out of power. Suddenly St. Croix made a hard right and shot down an alley. Scourge cursed and hastily followed, however the turn had surprised him and the tail of his Gear sparked against the alley wall. The skunk led them deeper into the maze of alleys before coming to an abrupt halt. _

"_Why the hell did we stop?"_

_Jeffrey held out his uninjured hand, "Give me the Gear, there's gotta be some sorta tracking device on it. It's the only way he coulda found us"_

_For a moment Scourge almost refused but before the words had left his open mouth he realized that St. Croix was probably right. He heard another set of feet hit the alley floor and the scarred teen reluctantly hopped off as well, lifting the board slightly so that the skunk could grab it and tuck it under his good arm._

"_What're you gonna do?" he asked, trying and failing to keep the concern for his friend out of his voice._

_St. Croix smiled grimly, "I'm gonna have him chase me, mate."_

"_Chase you! Are you shitting me!" Scourge grabbed for his Gear but the skunk maneuvered out of the way._

"_Relax mate," he chuckled, "We're in Mr. M's territory now, I wouldn't even try this otherwise. I'm reckless not suicidal."_

_The blue-eyed hedgehog glared at him for a minute before he cursed and ran a hand over his spikes, as if he was slicking them down, "What the hell do we do then? Just sit on our asses and wait?"_

"_Yup" St. Croix chuckled again, rotated the board 180 degrees, and shot off down the alley the way they had come._

_END FLASHBACK_

* * *

Scourge gritted his teeth as the drumming increased in tempo.

"Would you cut that shit out?" he growled, cracking one eye open to glare at the other teen.

"Why?"

"Because if you don't stop I'm gonna come over there and shove those Chaos-damned sticks up your ass!"

The black-eyed teen stared at him for a moment before beginning to drum again, even more energetically than before,

"Yeah, right," he snorted, "I'd like to see you try."

Scourge pushed himself to his feet, flicking his cigarette butt away as he did so. He was intent on carrying out his threat when something else waltzed its way into his mind. His scowl transformed into a dark smile.

* * *

Manic felt a slight shiver of fear work its way up his spine at the older-looking teen's smile; Scourge (he assumed that this was the scarred hedgehog's name because that's what the skunk had called him) walked over to him. Although it wasn't really walking, it was more of a graceful, predatory glide. He dropped down the a crouch (still moving with predator like grace, if it is even possible to gracefully drop into a crouch) placed his hands on Manic's shoulders, and leaned forward so that their face's were close enough that their breath mixed in the air between them. Manic tried to lean his head away but it came into contact with the alley wall.

"You know," Scourge murmured, his voice dropping into husky tones, "I saw you checking me out earlier. I'm sure we could find _something_ for you to do besides drum."

He began to lightly trace his hands down Manic's arms. The black-eyed teen could feel his face heating up into what must be a fantastic blush and felt goose bumps rise up on his arms. Some kind of haze must be screwing with his brain because he should be trying to get away. Shouldn't he? A strange, possibly dangerous person, a _dude_ on top of all that, comes onto you, you're supposed to try and get away right?

In his daze Manic didn't even notice as the other hedgehog slid his drumsticks from his unresisting fingers.

Scourge leaned closer until their lips were almost touching, "You're pretty cute for a dude and there are _so_ many better things that you could be doing with your hands than banging sticks on the ground."

And then, abruptly, the scarred hedgehog pulled back. He rose to full height and returned to his spot against the far wall. Manic blinked slowly, brain rushing to figure out what the hell had just happened. That's when he noticed his drumsticks poking out from one of Scourge's jacket pockets.

* * *

**A/N: Scourge is a perverted sneaky bastard, no? sorry it took so long to update guys but that ending scene was a complete pain to get to the point where I would even consider it passable.**

**If you're still reading this A/N then that's awesome cause you get to see me thank my reviewers.**

**So thank you ever so much : XxdarkangelknightxX, and the three guests!**

**So reviews (yes reviews! They make me feel all fuzzy n' shit on the inside) would be greatly appreciated as would be checking out my other fic **_**Narcissism **_**which is a Sonic/Zonic story.**

**Anywho have a wondrous day/night/time thingy,**

**trancepanda **


	5. Chapter 5: Gun in Hand

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own anything**

**Chapter 5: Gun in Hand**

**So I tried to switch up the writing style a bit. Tell me what you think of it?**

* * *

"It wouldn't have worked ya know"

For the past twenty minutes he and Scourge had been sitting in the alley. He had been running what he was already calling 'The Incident' through his brain and trying to divine exactly what his brain had decided to run off and do when he needed it.

"The hell are you talking about?" The foul-mouthed boy asked, lifting his head off the wall so that he could stare at the other teen.

Manic blushed slightly at having to explain himself, "that kiss…distraction…thing, it wouldn't have worked" he spluttered.

"Oh" Scourge leaned his head back against the wall, the picture of disinterest.

For some reason that bothered the shaggy-haired teen, "It wouldn't have worked," he repeated. His traitorous brain asked him who he was trying to convince, Scourge or himself, and he did his best to ignore it, "You smoke, it would've been like licking an ashtray." He paused and then blushed heavily, "and I don't go for dudes," he hurried on feeling vaguely disturbed that that wasn't the first thing he had said, "I'm not gay." he added for good measure.

Scourge snorted and placed a cigarette between his teeth, tossing the now empty cigarette pack carelessly to the side.

"You're not into dudes," he mumbled around the cancer stick, patting his pockets in an attempt to find his lighter, "Sure, sure and Demo's little brother isn't completely batshit."

Manic didn't know who Demo or his little brother was but the main point of the message still got across.

"I'm not," he repeated, "It's fine if you are but Manic the Hedgehog is _not_ into dudes."

Scourge stared at him, ice blue eyes calculating. After almost thirty seconds of uncomfortable (uncomfortable for Manic, he was starting to doubt that Scourge could even feel uncomfortable) silence he spoke again, "Prove it"

"Huh?"

"Prove you're not into dudes"

"How would I do that?"

Scourge grinned lecherously, "I'm sure you'll think of something"

Manic felt his face doing its impression of a tomato again but was spared having to answer by St. Croix, who appeared at the mouth of the alley. The skunk looked bedraggled and his leather jacket had been replaced by a denim jacket with the sleeves torn off. His hair was a windswept mess and there was a slightly bloody bandage wrapped around his wounded bicep but he smiled when he saw them.

"Hey, good to see you blokes didn't murder each other." he said cheerfully.

Manic opened his mouth to respond but Scourge beat him to it.

"St. Croix, about damn time," he snapped, "what happened to Jet?"

Jeffrey smiled, a bit evilly in Manic's opinion, "Oh, don't worry about it. We can go visit him later."

Scourge smiled back at St. Croix and then turned to Manic, "Sorry darling," he drawled, voice nearly drowning in sarcasm, "But I gotta go. This was fun though; we should do it again sometime."

He began to leave the alley and Manic found his voice just before he disappeared around the corner.

"Hey, wait!"

Scourge looked over his shoulder, smirking, "What is it? Got something you wanna prove?"

Manic felt his face heat up again and shot an embarrassed look at the amused skunk, "No you pervert! I wanna know what you did to my hoverboard!"

"Oh," he chuckled, "yeah it's around…somewhere."

"Where? 'Cause I want that back dude."

The blue-eyed hedgehog ignored him and turned to Jeffrey, "Hey St. Croix wanna go get drunk and celebrate surviving today?"

The skunk laughed but shook his head ruefully, "Sorry mate, we can't. We gotta go meet Mr. M."

Scourge scowled but something that Manic couldn't identify flickered across his face for a moment, "It's not the end of the month." He said slowly

"It's not about that. We're meeting him because of Jet."

The hedgehog said something else but Manic didn't hear it. Something that they had said earlier had slammed into him like a freight train. Mr. M, they had said. They had to go meet Mr. M. The guy who blew up Bartlebutt's mansion and stole his hoverboard probably worked for Mr. M….shit.

* * *

"Manic where were you! We were worried sick!"

The shaggy-haired teen grinned sheepishly at his sister who was staring at him, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked, and foot tapping, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, haha," he chuckled uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his head absently, "would you believe me if I told you I was being chased by a crazy bird with an energy pistol?"

"Manic this isn't the time for playing around! We still have to find the guy that blew up Bartleby's house!"

Manic shifted uncomfortably and steeled himself for the explosion; after shooting Sonic an apologetic look he cleared his throat to interrupt Sonia's rant, "Uh, I found the guy sis."

Sonia looked like someone had just told her that Robotnik used to be an underwear model.

"You found him? Well, where is he? What's his name?"

The green hedgehog raised both hands in surrender and simply waited out Sonia's flood of rapid fire questions. When she finally paused to take a breath he spoke again, "I'm pretty sure his name is Scourge but I…don't think we should go after him"

"What!"

"You can't be serious bro!"

Manic shifted again under the incredulous eyes of his siblings, "Look, guys, the dude works for Mr. M. I'm not messing with that guy over a scrap heap hoverboard and the house of some richie I don't even like"

"Why don't you wanna mess with this Mr. M guy?" Sonic asked.

He already knew that his brother wasn't particularly fond of Bartleby (translation: hated him with pretty much every fiber of his laid-back being) but it was pretty surprising that he didn't want to get his hoverboard back. That thing was practically his baby.

Manic sighed, "I keep forgetting that you guys didn't grow up on the streets. Mr. M is like," he gestured vaguely with his hands before settling on a word, "the boogeyman. He's the guy that all the older kids would tell scary stories about when they thought all the kids were asleep. Him and his Family control almost all of the organized crime in town: the guns, the drugs, the illegal clubs, there were even rumors about Mobian trafficking a while back."

Both of his siblings looked ill.

"He was selling people?" Sonia whispered, distraught.

Manic nodded grimly, "Yeah. The guy's a complete psycho, anyone who annoys him goes missing for a couple of days and then they come back as a corpse. That's if they even come back at all."

"Oh Chaos that's bad."

Manic nodded again.

* * *

Mr. M, The Boogeyman, sat behind his polished mahogany desk, his feet resting on it and his eyes (an eerie green with vertical slits for pupils) glowing from the shadows that shrouded much of his upper body. To his right stood Demo Duck, who somehow managed to look apathetic and vaguely irritated all at once. On his left stood Bark the Polar Bear, as quiet and impassive as always. Jet the Hawk had been forced to his knees in front of the desk, hands bound, face bloody, and eyes darting around like a captured animal. Scourge stood alone in the middle of the room, feeling horribly nervous but doing his best to not show it.

"Scourge," Mr. M's voice was deep, cold, and empty, the teen shivered against his will, "we are going to make a deal"

The green hedgehog opened his mouth to speak but Mr. M. cut him off.

"You owe me quite a lot of money, even after taking into account the Extreme Gear you stole for me you are still in debt. So, I am going to offer you a way out."

"A-a way out?" Scourge asked uncertainly.

"Yes, Jeffrey tells me that you wish to join my Family correct?," the hedgehog nodded and he continued, "and you know full well what happens to people who don't pay the money they owe me." he gestured airily to Demo Duck, "I will give you a place in my Family and remove your debt. All you have to do is kill Jet."

Mr. M gestured to Demo Duck again and the duck stepped forward, pulling a heavy duty energy pistol from the holster strung across his waist. He held it out and Scourge accepted it numbly.

"K-kill him?" Scourge asked, nervousness making his voice wobble slightly.

"Yes," Scourge couldn't see Mr. M's face but he imagined that the man was scowling, "the Babylon Rouges were the first gang in the entire city to refuse the honor of assimilation. On top of that personal insult he also attacked St. Croix who I have recently made into one of my lieutenants. Either way this pathetic ingrate is going to die, but if you kill him it will be quick. If I kill him it won't be, not at all, I do not take to being insulted."

Scourge slowly lifted the energy pistol to shoulder height, aiming the barrel between Jet's frantic eyes. On one hand there was his conscience, if he was still in possession of such a thing. Out of all the things he had done he had never killed anybody; he had robbed people, mugged them, kicked the living shit out of them, but _never_ killed anybody. His conscience was screaming at him to say no, to hand the pistol back and then make up the money so that he could pay Mr. M back and never have to see him again. On the other hand there was opportunity, the opportunity to be a made man. To have enough money that he wouldn't have to sleep in alleys or squat in rubble that used to be an apartment. He would be working for the second (you could make an argument for the most) powerful man in the city. He could be more than a pathetic street urchin.

He found it surprisingly easy to pull the trigger.

* * *

**A/N: *Le GASP* another chapter! Have you figured out who Mr. M is yet? Anyways reviews please and I hoped you enjoyed the chapter.**

**On a side note I have updated **_**Narcissism **_**recently.**

**Also could someone advise me on how to get a Beta Reader? I'm still relatively new here so I would greatly appreciate any help. Thanks.**

**Later,**

**trancepanda**


	6. Chapter 6: Untitled

**Disclaimer: I do not owns a thing**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter 6: Untitled**

* * *

"I killed someone."

Scourge drained the rest of amber liquid from his tumbler and set it upside down on the bar. The bartender, a skimpily dressed white bat who had been told quote 'keep them coming 'till I pass out', put another glass in front of him almost immediately.

"So what?" Jeffrey quirked an eyebrow, "the guy attacked us first. Besides, something good came from it. You're part of the Family now. You're basically set for life as long as you don't screw up too badly."

Scourge lifted his eyes from his glass and stared blearily at his friend, "I…" he poked himself in the chest, "killed someone."

St. Croix sighed, "Yeah, you're smashed. Come on, get up. You can crash at my place tonight."

"No! I like this song!" the hedgehog flung an arm out to point at one of the speakers and nearly fell off his stool.

"There's no song playing."

"…shut up. I'm not going. I'm gonna stay here 'till I can forget what I did."

The older man rolled his eyes, "You're probably the only person I know who can still articulate his words after this many drinks."

"…I killed someone."

The skunk sighed again, "So I'm only gonna tell you this 'cause your too drunk to remember –"

"You're gay?"

"What! No! The hell mate?"

"Well, there was that one time that—"

"Shut it."

"Just saying what I walked in on sure didn't look like something a straight man would—"

"I'm engaged."

"To that fox?"

"Chaos mate that was years ago. Why can't you let it go?"

"'Cause it's funny," Scourge drained his glass in a single gulp and then stifled a burp, "but who're marrying."

"Hershey."

"That cat chick? Didn't we beat the crap outta her bo—"he paused and eyed his glass like he had just realized it was in his hand, "hey! Where's my drink? Do I look passed out to you? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I told you to keep 'em coming 'till I dropped."

The bartender shrugged, "We're outta whiskey."

Scourge opened his mouth to say something and paused. He held up a hand in a classic 'wait a second' gesture with an expression of extreme concentration on his face. Then, without further ado, he slid off his stool and landed in a heap on the floor.

St. Croix shook his head ruefully and turned to the bartender, "Thanks for cutting him off mate."

The bartender shrugged, "I didn't cut him off. We really are outta whiskey." she leaned forward confidentially, "between you and me kid, that green guy's got a serious problem. Normally I encourage people to drink more, better business you know, but that kid's gonna kill himself."

The skunk cast a concerned look at the green heap on the floor, "He doesn't drink that much."

The bat shrugged and began to wipe down the bar with a damp rag, "You don't get that kind of alcohol tolerance from just being a casual drinker. Keep an eye on him is all I'm saying. He's cute, it'd be a shame if he drank himself to death."

St. Croix rolled his eyes, "Yeah, he's cute," he muttered sarcastically, "right 'till he opens his mouth."

She laughed, "Don't get jealous," she teased, "you're cute too."

Blue eyes rolled again, "Now you're just fishing for a tip."

The bat laughed again, "You caught me." she held out a hand, "I'm Rouge by the way."

"Jeffrey St. Croix" he grasped her hand and gave it a quick pump. He jabbed a thumb at the hedgehog, "That's Scourge."

"St. Croix this floor is really dirty."

"Shut up mate." He shot Rouge an apologetic look, "sorry 'bout him. I'll get him outta here. How much do I owe you?"

She told him the bill. With a tired sigh he dug out the Mobiums from his pocket (adding a few extra for a tip) and pushed the crumpled mass across the bar. While Rouge counted them with practiced precision Jeffrey pulled one of Scrouge's leather clad arms over his shoulders (being careful not to irritate the blaster wound on his arm) and hefted him to his feet. He was dragging the stumbling hedgehog to the door when Rouge spoke again.

"Hey I know it's none of my business but the Resistance has rehab centers lying around if you decide your buddy needs help."

Jeffrey snorted around his cigarette, "Yeah and I'm _so_ sure that those self-righteous Resistance pricks would help a gang member with a drinking problem."

"Of course they'd help! They're not like Robotnik; they wouldn't just let someone suffer."

The skunk made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and stepped out of the bar. He set off down the alley, heading towards his apartment.

"Congrats on the engagement," Scourge mumbled, "Let's celebrate. MORE WHISKEY!"

Jeffrey winced, "Chaos mate don't yell in my damn ear. And no more whiskey, you owe me over 300 Mobiums already."

The hedgehog muttered something unintelligible and sunk back into his drunken stupor.

St. Croix turned a corner, struggled to glance at his watch, and then began to walk faster. He was about halfway down the alley when he heard humming coming from a side alley. Curious he walked to the mouth of the alley and looked inside. A vaguely familiar green hedgehog was trying to hack into the small wall-mounted computer that kept the warehouse sealed shut. Feeling unusually generous, although that was probably from the alcohol, he cleared his throat.

"Hey kid, I wanna rob Robotnik blind too but the SWATbots make their rounds in five minutes so you might wanna bail."

The kid glanced at him and gasped in surprise, "Hey you're that dude from earlier!"

Recognition clicked in St. Croix's mind and he shrugged with difficulty, "Yeah I am. You know I never got a thank you for saving your a—"

"Halt citizen. You are under arrest for attempted breaking and entering."

St. Croix groaned and shook his head in exasperation, "Try to do something nice and look what happens. Chaos I _hate_ getting arrested."

"Relax dude, we're not gonna get arrested."

St. Croix rolled his eyes (Chaos he had been doing that a lot tonight),"You might not get arrested but I will. It's kinda hard to run from SWATbots with a drunk guy acting as dead weight after all."

"Good thing we're not gonna be the ones running then, huh?"

He gave the green hedgehog an incredulous look, "Not run? What're we gonna do then genius? Teleport?"

The teen smiled slightly, "Just trust me man." he reached out and grabbed the skunk's hand.

He opened his mouth to say something along the lines of 'what the hell are you doing?' but was suddenly jerked off his feet. His curse was ripped away by the wind before he fully had time to articulate it. It took about ten seconds (during which he was nearly motionless with shock) before he realized that they were being pulled by something. After he came to that realization he simply focused on not letting go of the green kid's hand and hoping his shoulder wouldn't pop out of its socket. They stopped suddenly and Jeffrey found himself having a brief flight through the air before basically doing a belly flop onto the pitted cement. His head hit the cement hard and the world blinked out of existence.

* * *

The first thing that Scourge noticed when he came to was the fact his head hurt. It felt like Nack had run him over with that stupid bike of his, which he supposed was possible seeing as he didn't remember much after arriving at the bar. He must have gone really overboard last night. He tried to bring a hand up to rub his temples and frowned when he realized he couldn't. What the hell? He tried to move his other hand and muttered a curse when he realized he couldn't move that one either. Someone had tied him up! What the hell! He looked around; he appeared to be in…a van? He could feel the tires bouncing over the road and see a row a seats near the front so that made sense. Who owned the van though?

"Oh, you're awake. Cool."

Scourge's head shot around. Sitting on a bunk bed against the far wall was the green hedgehog he had saved (or been forced to save, not the point) from Jet earlier.

"Oh no," the hung-over hedgehog groaned, "I've been kidnapped by a sexually repressed hedgehog."

"Dude I told you I'm not gay!"

* * *

**A/N: And that is chapter 6! Manic and Scourge are gonna be spending a lot more time together now! But where are the Hedgehog triplets taking him? What about St. Croix's engagement? What is the point of this 70's drama show style voice-over? Well, review and come back next week for another installment of **_**Hail to the King!**_

**Sorry, couldn't help myself ;)**

**trancepanda**


	7. Chapter 7: Ether

**Disclaimer: Alas I do not own anything**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter Seven: Ether**

**A/N: I would like to thank everyone who reviewed! **

**Thanks to:**

**Guest (not sure if the same person or multitude of people but thank-you none the less), CloveRniss, bearvalley3364, Manicpanicgirl, and adorablebaybee3.**

**Mr. M's name is finally revealed in this chapter so be on the lookout!**

* * *

"I blame you for this."

"Ah, come on St. Croix when I said I was cute enough to kidnap I didn't think that the jolly green gayhog over there would throw us in the back of his rape ride."

"Dude for the last time, I'm not gay."

"Yeah that's what he says but I walked in on him f—"

"Shut it." St. Croix kicked Scourge in the leg with one booted foot.

Scourge twisted his head to look at the skunk and smirked, "I was never able to look at that couch the same again, ya know. I mean every time I saw—"

"Keep talking and I'll start telling people about the time you got so high you tried to convince Fiona to—"

"Shutting up now."

"That's what I thought." St. Croix chuckled and then turned his attention to Manic, "So what's your name mate?"

"I'm Manic"

"Manic? I've heard that name before. Did you used to be Guild?

Manic's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Ferrel used to talk about you a lot. Said you were some kinda prodigy or something."

St. Croix chuckled as Manic's suspicious expression melted away, "Dude, you knew Ferrel?"

"Yeah, he was a good bloke. Shame what happened to him."

The shaggy haired hedgehog frowned slightly, face pained, "Yeah, yeah it's a shame," there was a pause, "hey what do you mean _used_ to be Guild?"

The skunk looked surprised, "do you really not know? The Guild is dead mate. It started to fall apart after Ferrel got taken. Everyone who was left dropped their flags the moment Mr. M called for assimilation."

Manic put his head in his hands, "Bummer majores, dude."

Several minutes of silence passed as the information that everyone he grew up was either missing or working for Mr. M established itself in Manic's mind. During this time Scourge, who had been surprisingly quiet, somehow managed to get his hands out from behind his back. They were still bound but at least he could use them now. He demonstrated this newly regained freedom by lighting himself and St. Croix each a cigarette and removing a battered flask from the inside of his jacket.

After taking a deep swig he focused his eyes on Manic, "So g—" he paused, he was gonna make another gay joke but the kid already looked like someone had brutally murdered an entire family of puppies in front of him. For some reason Scourge didn't want to make him feel any worse than he already did (he wondered inwardly if being hung-over made him nicer and then, remembering the time he had nearly ripped all of Miles' stupid hair off for being too loud one morning after an intense party, dismissed the thought.)

"So kid," he continued as if he had never paused at all, "what's the deal with this kidnapping? You should know that Mr. M doesn't pay ransoms."

A new voice spoke up and both the bound men twisted their heads around to look at the pink (they both shuddered inwardly about the color) hedgehog.

"We're not kidnapping you," this new girl said.

The skunk smiled wryly at her indignant tone and shrugged his shoulders to bring attention to his bound hands, "Well I don't call this a dinner invitation so…"

"We're not kidnapping you," she repeated, "We're taking you into custody."

"Custody?" St. Croix scowled, "Whose custody? And who the hell are you anyway?"

Yet another new voice spoke up as a third hedgehog, this one blue, stepped into view, "How can ya' not recognize the Sonic Underground?" he asked playfully, "We're the biggest band on Mobius! Way past cool, right?"

If it was possible the skunk's scowl deepened even further, "Sonic Underground, huh?"

"Yep," the blue one responded cheerfully, "Sonic, Manic, and Sonia. Freedom Fighters extraordinaire at your service." he bowed theatrically.

Scourge groaned in horror and fell onto his side, curling his body around his flask, "_Freedom Fighters_, why the hell would you say that? That's like one of his trigger words, now he won't shut up!"

The hedgehog triplets had touched what Scourge called 'Jeffie's grumpy button' (in his defense he had been a little kid when he thought that title up) and thus jump-started a rant like none the royal siblings had ever experienced before.

One minute into the rant it registered with Sonia that they had a very angry skunk who worked for the most dangerous mob boss in Mobotropolis tied up in their van. It also occurred to her that they had no real plan; the farthest any of them had gotten was the custody line.

Five minutes into the rant Manic had learned three new swear words, two new uses for words he already knew, and a very rude gesture you could make with both hands tied behind your back.

Seven minutes into the rant Sonic came to the conclusion that the skunk would probably be really fun to hang out with…if he ever got over the whole psychotic 'I'm gonna tear your quills off and shove 'em up your ass' rage he was currently in. How Sonic came to this conclusion is something that only the blue blur will ever be able to understand.

Ten minutes into the rant Scourge shook his empty flask forlornly and wondered if it was possible to will more liquor into it.

Fifteen minutes into the rant St. Croix was still going strong and Scourge was concentrating on his flask so hard that his eyes had crossed.

* * *

Miles away, in the town of Mercia, an entirely different sort of rant had just ended. Nazo, the head of the Mercian cartel, stood over the cooling bodies of two of his subordinates. The hedgehog knelt and carefully wiped the blade of his knife clean against the fur of one of the corpses. As he straightened up his hand dipped into his pocket (yes, Nazo was one of those Mobians who felt the desire to wear clothes. They needed to be specially tailored to accommodate his unique quill structure but when you practically own a city that is hardly an issue) and removed a small communicator. His free hand began to move the knife in complex patterns around his fingers as he waited for the device to be answered. As the device beeped steadily away in his ear another subordinate timidly entered the room. He cast Nazo a frantic and terrified look, and then dragged the two dead bodies out of the room as fast as he could.

You see, despite the fact that both Mr. M and Nazo were the heads of their respective city's criminal undergrounds they had very different ways of ruling.

Mr. M was feared for a reason. He dealt with opposition harshly, had a murderous streak a mile wide for anyone he perceived as having insulted him, and he wasn't afraid to do horrible things and get his hands dirty if he deemed it necessary. But if you were in his Family he would look after you. He might hurt you if you didn't pay off your debt to him but he would never kill you, not unless you betrayed him. Being a member of his Family basically meant you were set for life, provided you don't something too stupid. People were loyal to him because, despite the fact that he was bat-shit insane, he would look after you and give you some margin of protection and stability.

On the other hand people were loyal to Nazo because they were terrified of him. If Mr. M was the Boogeyman then the albino hedgehog was the Devil incarnate. Nazo had arrived one day out of the blue and then, like some sort of deranged comic book super-villain, proceeded to destroy the entirety of the city's crime organizations in a week long massacre the was still called 'The Seven Day Slaughter' to this day. He had rebuilt the underground from the ashes (in his slightly less homicidal moods he likened this rebuilding process to that of a phoenix rising) and seized absolute control.

The Cartel had a saying 'do what you're told or die trying because if you don't the world won't be big enough to hide you.' This saying was completely true, Nazo had once dragged a subordinate who had failed him back from the other end of the world (he had been hiding as a crab fisherman, but that is irrelevant to the story) and proceeded to vivisect him in front of the entire Cartel.

In short he made Mr. M appear to be a picture of perfect mental health.

The communicator was finally answered, "What?"

"Mephiles, we have a problem."

"Oh?"

"The Freedom Fighters have been bombing the factories."

"And how is this note-worthy? Those pests are always bombing Robotnik's factories." The dead voice managed to sound bored without changing its tone or inflection at all.

Nazo began to get irritated. The knife flew faster between his fingers and his eye began to twitch, "Not Robotnik's factories! Do you think I give a damn about that pathetic sack of flesh? No! They are bombing our factories! The ones our hacker assured me he made disappear from the records!"

"Have you…'spoken'…to the boy yet?" the delicate emphasis made it clear that Mephiles doubted any speaking would be going on.

"No!" Nazo's voice took on an alarming jittery quality, as if his rationality and psychotic rage were waging war in his vocal chords, "I haven't talked to the brat yet, but when I do I'm going to find out how much of him I can CUT off and feed to him before he DIES!"

"Calm down Nazo, the Freedom Fighters in remote regions are notorious for having outdated information. It is entirely likely that they have copies of the data from before our hacker could get to them."

"Their info better just be outdated or I'm going to CUT off both of that brat's tails and SHOVE them down his throat!"

"If he has been leaking information to the Resistance then I will help you my friend. But until then leave him intact. The boy is a technological genius. Half of the blueprints we have are from his digging into ancient systems."

"One hint, Mephiles, one hint that he's betrayed us and I swear to Chaos I'll enjoy every minute of skinning him alive."

Mephiles hummed neutrally, acutely aware that his friend WOULD enjoy every minute of skinning the fox boy and might do it if he got too bored, "Nazo, I believe it is time to take a more…'direct'… approach in dealing with the Freedom Fighters."

Nazo began to laugh. Several Cartel members within hearing range paled and began shaking violently. Whatever made the Devil laugh was guaranteed to be bad news.

* * *

**A/N: In honor of my summer break starting I have presented the seventh chapter to you ahead of my completely arbitrary schedule. **

**Also the name of Mr. M has been revealed! Yes the psychotic crime boss is none other than Mephiles the Dark from Sonic '06 (not the best game, I'll admit but I freaking loved Mephiles as a bad guy).**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**

**Later**

**Trancepanda**


	8. IMPORTANT AN

**IMPORTANT!**

Oh almost forgot, I'm trying to convince my friend (he writes on this site under the name 'pathetic-really') to write a Manourge fic. See, I kinda got him hooked on the pairing and mentioned that didn't have nearly enough fics for it. He said he's all for the idea but wanted to see how the summary goes over seeing as he's essentially working a full-time job this summer and won't have much time to update.

So here's the summary (sorry if it's bad his exact words were 'I haven't slept in three fucking days cut me a break):

Even at 17, Scourge is jaded and cynical, convinced that he's bad luck. His relationships always end badly and he's been bounced around foster homes so much that he doesn't even bother to unpack his suitcase anymore. The last bounce had caused his band, the Suppression Squad, to break up and ruined their shot at getting signed. He's resigned himself to living out the rest of his life as a bad luck magnet for everyone who gets close to him. But then he meets Manic, who seems immune to his bad luck and things start to get better. But Scourge has to ask himself, when's the other shoe gonna drop?

Highschool AU

So…does this sound like a good idea? Yes or no? feel free to go vote on the poll I'm gonna put on my profile page or leave a review if your too lazy to go to the page.

Either way, thanks for the feedback.

Later,

trancepanda


	9. Chapter 8: Knows That I

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter 8: Knows That I**

* * *

By the time that the Hedgehog triplets stopped the van for the night they were all thoroughly exhausted. Scourge had spent most of the time after St. Croix's rant in silence, smoking cigarette after cigarette and flicking the smoldering butt at whichever of his captors was closest. However he did occasionally break in with comments (some of them included gems like: "Hey Blue, you eat those chili dogs like a fat bitch." "Manic your hair reminds me of a pineapple." And the classic "Hey Princess, has anyone ever told you that pink is really not your color?") Needless to say that after Scourge's comment Sonia had to be dragged from the room before she hurt anyone. After both of the captives (Manic had tried to think of them as criminals that they were taking to justice and couldn't) had fallen asleep the siblings decided to meet at the front of the van and decide what to do.

"So I'm beginning to think that we didn't think this through." Sonic stated dryly, flopping down into his chair.

"What's to think through? We're taking them to Sanctuary so that they can go on trial." Sonia sat down in her own chair. Her posture was regal as always, a result of her aristocratic upbringing.

Manic began to tap his drumsticks on the dashboard, "I don't think we should put them on trial, sibs." Sonia opened her mouth and he hurried on, "Hear me out here. Those guys in there did me a solid by warning me about the SWATbots—"

"But you didn't need that warning 'cause I was coming." Sonic interjected.

"I knew you were coming bro but they didn't. They were already out past Robuttnik's curfew, they coulda left me there to get busted but they tried to help. Where I grew up you don't repay someone who tried to help you by locking them up. That's something the entire Guild would beat on you for."

Sonia frowned, "But Manic they blew up Bartleby's house."

"And he had a whole other house in his back yard, besides that was only that green dude. He made sure that Bartlebutt was out of it before it went super nova too."

"But it was still a crime!"

"But who's gonna convict him?" Sonic broke in, "Sorry to say sis, but even if we can get a jury and all that good stuff at Sanctuary I don't think anyone's gonna punish him for it. Most Freedom Fighters aren't big fans of aristocrats."

"But—"

"And the moment they find out that those dudes work for Mr. M there's no way they'd convict."

"For the love of Chaos! Manic why are you so freaked out by this M guy? He's just a common thug; he's not some sort of super-powered monster!"

Manic opened his mouth but Sonic cut him off. The blue hedgehog spoke in the stern and in-control tone that made him such an influential leader in the Freedom Fighters. "The Resistance can't afford any more enemies Sonia. We're putting all our resources into fighting Robuttnik and barely scraping by in some places. If this Mr. M creep declares war on us then we'd be in serious trouble."

"But why would he declare war on the Resistance?" Sonia looked honestly confused and Manic was once again reminded about what a sheltered life she had lived before.

"'Cause sis, we basically kidnapped two of his dudes and tried put 'em on trial."

"But they committed a crime." Sonia appeared more confused then ever.

"That's not the way they would see it though. That green dude blew up an aristocrat's house. Everyone knows that the aristocrats are totally under Blubberbolt's thumb. He didn't do anything against the Resistance. So to them, if the Resistance gets involved it's completely unprovoked."

Sonia sat in silence for a moment, thinking that through, "So then what should we do?" she asked finally.

"I still say we take 'em to Sanctuary. But instead of putting 'em on trial we try to get 'em on our side. Mr. M's got resources that could really help against Robuttnik." Manic finished tapping his drumsticks with a flourish and they disappeared back into his fanny pack.

"But they're criminals!"

"In case you haven't noticed sis, so are we." Sonic threw an arm over her shoulder cheerfully. The pink hedgehog sighed in resignation and agreed that they were, in fact, criminals.

Now that they had a plan the royal siblings went off to bed, agreeing that it would be best to untie their 'guests' after they had woken up. After all St. Croix had seemed pretty serious about his threats. It would be a total bummer if they untied his hands now and he got his creative (and probably anatomically impossible) revenge while they were sleeping.

* * *

_Frantic blue eyes._

_Disheveled green feathers._

_A smell of fear that was almost palpable._

_He pulled the trigger._

_The acrid smell of energy pistol discharge._

_The horrible somehow sickly sweet stench of burning feathers and flesh._

_Dead blue eyes._

Scourge awoke with a barely choked off scream and scrambled into an upright position. His eyes darted around frantically, trying to remember where he was. It hit him like a freight train (or Drago that time Scourge had tried to get him into bed). He was in those hedgehogs' rape ride.

Chaos, he needed a drink.

He pulled his flask from his jacket, frantically unscrewed the cap, and greedily held it up to his lips.

Empty.

The green hedgehog cursed violently and slammed the flask down on his leg.

"Dude, are you okay?"

Scourge spun around, shoulders instinctively hunching inward in defense. The other green hedgehog, Mantis, or Panic, or whatever-the-hell-his-name-was was staring at him from his bunk with sleepy but concerned black eyes.

The scarred teen scowled, "Piss off."

"No need to be so hostile man, I'm just trying to help." Manic (yes! That was his name! oh shit, how did he forget that?) held up his hands defensively. He climbed out of his bed, crossed the room, and sat down cross-legged in front of Scourge.

"I don't want your help." Scourge sneered.

"I know you don't but talking helps, you know?"

"Bullshit." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Why would you wanna help me anyway?"

The shaggy haired teen shrugged, "I don't like seeing people in pain. Besides, the whole nightmare thing, I get it."

Scourge scowled, if there as one thing that set him off like none other it was a person pretending to _get_ something that they didn't have the faintest idea of.

"You get it?" he asked condescendingly, "Really? What are your nightmares kid? Did you see someone get roboticized? Do you get chased by monsters? Let me tell you what my nightmares are," he twisted his wrists and slid free of the ropes holding them with ease (ropes, really what were these kidnappers thinking? It was almost as if they wanted them to get loose and murder them in their sleep). With startling quickness he reached out and grabbed a hold of Manic's chin with one hand and pulled him closer. The other hand he made into a pistol, which he shoved the 'barrel' of against Manic's temple. "I killed someone. I put a gun to his fucking head and vaporized him. The parts of his brain that weren't ash were on the fucking carpet. And I gotta watch that shit every time I sleep. I've got the blood of another man on my hands and I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep again. So don't tell me you fucking get it because you fucking don't." he paused to take a breath and noticed how close they were. Manic seemed to be too shocked by his outburst to have noticed yet. The shaggy-haired teen's mouth was hanging slightly open from surprise and his black eyes, which were extremely expressive from up close Scourge noticed, were focused on him intently.

Scourge leaned a little closer and chuckled, "Ya' know kid, you're pretty cute when you look like that."

Manic's face turned as red as a tomato almost instantly. Then, as if just realizing how close they were, he began to try and pull away.

Smirking, Scourge leaned forward and captured his lips.

* * *

**A/N: O_o did that just happen? Why yes it did! A cliffhanger also happened but…well, I do have my dick-ish moments so….**

**Anyway, pathetic-really decided to write his story and has posted the first chapter under the title of **_**Engine 45**_**. Not sure if the title means anything since he wouldn't explain it but…well it's there and I personally think the first chapter is pretty good so check it out.**

**Later,**

**trancepanda**


	10. Chapter 9: All Shall Fall

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter 9: All Shall Fall**

* * *

Manic's brain was in a frenzy. What the hell was going on? Why was this guy kissing him? Why the hell was he kissing back? He could taste the cigarettes and liquor on the other hedgehog's tongue along with something dark and bitter with a slightly fruity undertone, like dark chocolate, that belonged just to him. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss and a nearly silent moan escaped him as Scourge lightly traced the tip of his tongue across the underside of his own. That was what snapped him out of it. He had just _moaned_ for Chaos' sake. He shouldn't be kissing another dude anyway, he was straight after all, and he definitely shouldn't be moaning.

The shaggy-haired teen broke the kiss and scrambled back, chest heaving and eyes wide.

"Dude what the _hell _was that?"

Scourge smirked, showing off a sharp canine, and leaned back against the wall of the van.

"Why did you kiss me dude? I told you, I'm straight."

The scarred teen chuckled and lit a cigarette, "I kissed you because I felt like it. And straight? Yeah, sure. Next you'll be telling me that you're one of Queen Aleena's long lost kids."

Manic opened his mouth and then closed it with a snap, remembering that the fact he was one of the Queen's children was supposed to be a secret.

"You're blushing darling."

Manic could feel his face becoming even hotter, "Don't call me darling, dude."

"Whatever you say babe."

The normally relaxed hedgehog growled in frustration and shot to his feet, "Don't call me babe either. I'm going back to bed you—you stay there. Away from me."

Scourge's smirk widened, "Sweet dreams kid."

Manic frowned slightly and crawled back into his bunk, "Sweet dreams? Right, probably have nightmares after _that._"

He drifted back to sleep to the sound of the scarred teen's laughter. His last thought before darkness carried him off was '_he's got a pretty nice laugh.'_

* * *

Miles "Tails" Prower looked up from his computer screen and frowned, "What're you doing here Nack?"

The bounty hunter, who usually worked for either Mr. M or Nazo depending on who was paying more, stepped farther into the room, one hand resting casually on the butt of his pistol, "The Boss sent me here to check on ya'."

"We don't need checked up on!" Tails' assistant, Charmy Bee, shouted indignantly.

Nack scowled, "you _need_ whatever the Boss says you need."

"Charmy's right Nack, we don't need checked up on. But It is gonna take a little longer to get the schematics that he wants, they've been buried underneath mountains of security."

"Yeah so that creep Nazo is gonna have to wait for his toys!"

"I'd watch ya' mouth Charmy, unless you wanta' get transferred to the Mansion."

Charmy fell silent almost at once. There were only two reasons that you went to the Mansion. One was that Nazo trusted you enough to let you into his home and the other was that you screwed up so badly that you would work guard duty until the albino hedgehog went into a rage and killed you.

"Hey, there's no need for that—"

"And I'm not here about the schematics; Chaos knows that the Boss has enough toys. I'm here because someone," the hybrid looked gave Miles a pointed look, "has been leaking information to the Freedom Fighters."

Tails could feel his mouth dry up in fear. He licked his lips nervously and his eyes flicked down to the pistol hanging from Nack's waist. "Someone's been leaking info?" he kept his voice remarkably level.

"Yep, two of our factories have been hit and the Boss is paying me more Mobiums then you would believe to find out who the rat is. He sent me here to go through your system, try to find out which of our computers has been sending info to people outside our mainframe." He gestured for Tails to stand and move out of the way.

The fox watched as the greedy thug fell gracelessly into the chair and began to tap away on the keyboard, "You know about computers?"

Nack shrugged and answered without taking his eyes off the screen, "I know more than ya' would think, now would ya' shut up? We're not all tech geniuses like you, I actually havta' focus."

Tails watched apprehensively as the weasel carefully picked through the system, hoping that all precautions he had taken would pay off. He felt a bead of nervous sweat slide down the back of his head and brushed it off of his fur, trying to pass the movement off as scratching an itch. After what felt like an eternity Nack grunted tonelessly and stood.

"So did you find anything?" Tails asked, hoping against hope that he had not.

The hybrid shrugged, unconcerned, "Na, but I've been at this longer than you've been alive." he smirked confidently, "People who play both sides always slip up. It's only a matter of time before I catch this guy. I almost feel bad for him, I mean I've heard Boss say some pretty nasty threats but…" he shuddered theatrically, "The poor bastard is gonna beg for death." He glanced at Tails and laughed at the look on his face. He made his way out the door, still laughing.

The fox heaved a sigh of relief as he heard Nack's motorbike start up and speed off. He flopped into his chair, glanced at the screen, and felt his mouth go even dryer, if that was possible. The weasel obviously knew more about computers than he had let on because all of Tails' precautions and security measures had failed. All the info he had sent and the IP address of the place he had sent it to stared at him from the screen.

"Charmy," he licked his lips again and swallowed audibly, "fire up the Tornado and I'll start packing up all our gear, we've been compromised. We gotta go to Sanctuary, now."

Nack _knew._ He knew that Tails was playing both sides. But, why hadn't he said anything?

* * *

"And you're sure this location is correct?" Nazo tapped his knife against his chin, looking thoughtful.

"One hundred percent Boss, all the info Prower was sending went there."

"Perfect," the albino hedgehog laughed, a manic and uncontrolled sound, "I'm going to have fun burning that place to the ground."

"Uh, Boss if you knew that Prower was leaking info why didn't ya' want me to bring him to ya'?"

"Because Nack, Prower knows that I know he's a rat. Unless he's completely idiotic he's going to go running to that location, hoping that they'll take him to the Resistance's main base. And I'm going to be there and I'm going to KILL each and EVERY one of those Freedom Fighters in front of him , and I'm going to GUT that LITTLE BEE and CARVE up Prower's face like a Chaos-damned PUMPKIN!" he slammed his knife down into the desk. It sunk to the hilt and Nazo shot to his feet still screaming dementedly, "I'm going to PULL out every one of his TEETH and CUT off his TONGUE because NOBODY BETRAYS ME! DO YOU HEAR ME! NOBODY FUCKS WITH ME! I'M GOING TO MAKE THAT LITTLE PRICK BEG FOR DEATH ON BROKEN KNEES!"

Nazo began to rant, running through a list of gruesome tortures that he would inflict on anyone who betrayed him. It would have been comical if you didn't realize how deadly serious he was.

* * *

Tails had sent a warning to the Freedom Fighters he had been feeding information to. They were in the middle of their evacuation process when Nazo and his men arrived. The small transport ship holding the last of their children had just departed when the doors to their hanger were blown inward with a mighty blast. Nazo stepped through the ragged hole, a crazy smile transforming his normally handsome face into something demonic. In his hands he held a machine gun, a relic from the time of the Great War, lovingly rebuilt with some of the schematics that Tails had been forced to provide. Cartel members swarmed in after him, each clutching their own weapon.

"So," Nazo glanced around the room, contemptuously eyeing the shocked Freedom Fighters, "any of you seen a dead fox around here?"

They opened fire.

* * *

**A/N: What's this! Another chapter? A day after an update? YES! This chapter would not leave me the hell alone until I wrote it so I present to you…chapter 9!**

**Also, a reminder in case you only read author's notes part of the time, pathetic-really has posted the first chapter of his Manourge story under the name of **_**Engine 45**_**.**

**So have a nice night (or day) and don't forget to review!**

**Later,**

**trancepanda**


	11. Chapter 10: Wild Eyes

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Hail to the King**

**Chapter Ten: Wild Eyes**

* * *

Hey guys, first off I want to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Between finding a job and working at said job I haven't really had time to do much, let alone write. I'd like to take a little time to answer a couple questions that have been asked in the reviews. Uh, I apologize for not answering these sooner, I've been meaning to answer them at the end of previous chapters and it always slipped my mind.

I was asked if I was going to add OC's to this story. Um, the answer to that is probably not. I have nothing against OC's but I try to avoid using them in my stories because I always end up making them overpowered even when I don't mean to and it never ends well. So long story short, probably no OC's. If I have any they'll probably only be there for a like a second. As very, very minor characters.

I was also asked why Tails doesn't go to Sonic for help and if Sonic has any idea that Tails is (or was) acting as a double agent. This story is in the _Sonic Underground_ universe. Admittedly I've brought in characters from other Sonic universes (video games, Archie comics, etc.) but the basic elements of the story remain the same. Tails was not in the _Sonic Underground_ television show so in this universe Tails and Sonic haven't met (yet). So, again long story short, Tails can't go to Sonic for help because neither character knows the other exists.

Anywho, I hope the answers helped, here's the chapter.

* * *

Xxx

Nazo nudged the bullet-ridden corpse in front of him, expression horribly vacant. The Cartel members that had come with him were doing their best to stay out of his way, knowing that he could explode at the slightest provocation. The albino took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the coppery smell of blood and the acrid burn of gunpowder. He absently loosened his tie and unbuttoned his vest with one hand, never taking his eyes off of the corpse. It was a fox but it wasn't the right fox. It wasn't the right fucking FOX!

A sudden tidal wave of rage overtook him. He pulled back his foot and slammed it into the corpse, screaming ferally. Something popped in the corpse's side. The sound made him angrier. He threw his machine gun to the floor and began to kick the corpse repeatedly, growing angrier every time he heard a bone break. Ten minutes of incoherent screaming and kicking later he brought a foot down on the corpse's head, his psychotic rage giving him enough strength to crush it beneath his feet.

He whirled around, breathing heavily, and glared at the Cartel members who weren't smart enough to flee the room when their boss snapped.

"Where the FUCK is HE!?"

No one answered.

"NACK! WHERE THE FUCK IS NACK?""

The wolf/weasel hybrid stepped forward, looking incredibly nervous. "What do ya' need Boss?"

"Come here Nack, come here right the FUCK now!"

The bounty hunter stepped closer. Nazo grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer, simultaneously pulling his knife from his pocket. He flicked it open and pressed it against the underside of Nack's jaw, putting enough pressure on it so that it broke the skin.

"Where the FUCK IS PROWER!"

"I don't know Boss." Nack tried to keep his voice level but it shook anyway.

Nazo scowled, his voice dropping into a murderous hiss, "Are you trying to fuck me over asshole? Did you tip Prower off? Feed me false info? How much are they paying you? Tell me the truth or I swear to Chaos I will skin you alive."

Any measure of self-control that Nack still possessed left him. He knew from experience that Nazo was not making an idle threat. He began to blubber, "Boss I'm telling ya' the truth, ya' gotta believe me. All Prower's info was sent here, I swear! Please, I swear, I thought he was here. Swear to Chaos, I thought he was here! Don't hurt me!"

Nazo stared at him with his horribly vacant eyes. After a moment of tense silence he threw Nack away from him. The bounty hunter hit the floor hard and groaned as his head bounced off the concrete.

"Put the word out." Nazo swept his eyes across the remaining Cartel members, "ten thousand Mobiums for Prower's head and tails, twenty thousand if he's brought to me alive. Nack if you bring me Prower first I'll consider not bleeding you dry."

* * *

Xxx

Manic woke up from a rather _heated_ dream with a sound halfway between a gasp and a moan. Out of instinct born from sharing close quarters with his siblings, he sat up and pulled his legs up to his chest, hiding the effect the dream had on his body.

"Have a nice dream, darling?"

The shaggy-haired teen scowled and glared sleepily at the thoroughly amused looking hedgehog that leaned against the far wall of the van.

Scourge smirked around his cigarette, "Like what you see?"

Manic groaned and buried his face in his hands, "I really think I might hate you dude."

"That'd be a lot more convincing if you didn't moan in your sleep."

Manic groaned again, wishing that he could just melt through the bottom of his bed and fall through the floor of the van.

Scourge let him mope for a minute and then pushed himself off of the wall, "Come on, get up kid. I wanna go out and Princess threatened to castrate me if I went without 'supervision'."

"Go out? Go out where? Where are we anyway?"

"Outpost."

"That's not helpful at all."

"It's this tiny little border town. Now come on, get up. I wanna go out but I don't wanna risk my fun bits, ya' know?"

The drummer flopped back down on his bed, rolled onto his stomach, and buried his head into the pillow, "Can't you get Sonic to take you?" he mumbled.

"Na, Blue somehow managed to drag St. Croix out to get chili dogs and Princess wandered off to do…whatever the hell she does."

"Oh," Manic shrugged from his prone position and shifted to get more comfortable.

A minute of silence passed and when it became apparent that Manic wasn't getting up Scourge scowled, "Kid, get up."

"No dude, I'm sleeping."

"Get up."

"Nooo."

Scourge took a deep drag on his cigarette, trying to think of something that would convince the other hedgehog to get out of bed. Normally when someone wouldn't wake up he'd…no, that wouldn't work; he wanted to keep his body intact after all.

After another minute of thinking he finally came up with something, "I'll make a deal with you, kid. Outpost has this awesome metal club that always has live music. Take me to restock on my stuff and I'll take you there."

Manic perked up at that, lifting his head off the pillow to look at Scourge. It had been a while since he'd been to a concert where he was in the crowd instead of on the stage. Actually, he couldn't remember the last time he had been in the crowd.

Manic stared at Scourge for a minute more (trying to see if he was serious, not because he couldn't get that stupid dream out of his head.) Finally he sighed, "Fine. Give me ten minutes."

* * *

An hour later Scourge and Manic were walking down one of Outpost's narrow, seedy streets. Surprisingly, Scourge hadn't been nearly as antagonistic as usual (although every time he saw Manic looking at him he'd smirk and wink just so that he could see the shaggy-haired teen's face go red.) The two green furred hedgehogs had actually managed to have several civil, albeit short, conversations.

They turned onto an even narrower street and had to step around an unconscious drunk.

"Dude, how do you know about this place anyway?" Manic glanced at the other teen out of the corner of his eye.

Scourge shrugged and took a sip from his newly refilled flask, "St. Croix brought me out here during the harvest festival when I was little."

"So you and St. Croix have been friends for a while then, huh?"

"Been a long damn time, that's for sure."

"How'd you guys meet?"

"Long story, we don't talk about it." his tone and facial expression clearly said drop it, and Manic did. "Now we're getting close so I gotta tell you the ground rules, alright kid?"

"Ground rules?"

"Yeah, first off, I know you're all proud to be a Freedom Fighter and shit but people around here really aren't big fans of you guys. So keep your mouth shut about it unless you wanna have to fight off a shit-ton of angry drunks."

"They don't like Freedom Fighters?" Manic was shocked, "Why not?"

Scourge lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nose, dragon style, "Right after the coup a couple members of the early resistance holed up here and started launching counter-attacks against the Sovereign Fatass. When Robotnik tracked 'em back here and started sending in the SWATbots they bailed, didn't even try to save the locals. Outpost lost about half its population in one day."

"Dude, that's horrible." Manic said, aghast.

"No shit Sherlock. Anyway, rule number two: if you've got money on you, don't show it around. I don't wanna have to deal with some Synth addict trying to mug your ass."

"No problem there." Manic had seen some Synth addicts back in Mobotropolis. The drug turned them nearly feral. Patches of their fur fell out, they lost weight rapidly, they rarely slept, and they attacked anyone they could, trying to get money for their next fix. It was a life that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy (although, losing some weight would probably be good for Robuttnik).

Scourge stepped into a side alley and pushed open a rusted, graffiti-ridden door, revealing a rickety set of metal stairs leading down into the darkness. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and began to walk down, ignoring how the stairs rattled and shook with every step. Manic followed apprehensively, one hand gripping the safety railing just in case. As they went farther and farther down into the darkness (it was now dark enough that the only thing visible was the cherry of Scourge's cigarette) Manic could hear faint notes of music drifting up to them. The music continued to get louder and louder and when they reached the bottom of the stairs it was almost deafening. Scourge pushed open another rusted door and Manic let out an inaudible gasp.

The room beyond the door was small, lit by several flickering ceiling lights that looked like they had seen better days. The far wall was occupied by a stage made from scrap-wood and the Mobians on it looked like they were having the time of their lives, pounding skillfully away on their instruments. That wasn't what made Manic gasp though, what made him gasp was the crowd. The entire floor, from just in front of the stage to a couple of feet in front of the door, was a swirling vortex of bodies, shoving, punching, and slamming into each other.

Scourge glanced back at him and mouthed 'come on' before throwing himself into the crowd. Manic hesitated for a moment more and then followed him into the mosh pit.

"_We are the diamonds that choose to stay coal__  
__A generation born to witness the end of the world__  
__Against the grain__  
__Against the odds__  
__Against the world__  
__Forever the underdogs"_

* * *

**A/N: and that's the chapter. Again sorry for the long wait, I'll do my best not to let it happen again, but I can't guarantee anything. In case you're wondering the lyrics above are from the song 'Wild Eyes' by Parkway Drive.**

**ALSO I NEED YOUR HELP!**

**I need a new title for my ZonicXSonic story. It's posted here under the title '_Narcissism__' _but I don't really think that it works too well. So here's the summary and any suggestions for a new title would be greatly appreciated.**

**summary:**

_"When Scourge and Mephiles instigate a violent riot and subsequent breakout that leaves Zone Jail in ruin, Zonic recruits his Mobius Prime counterpart Sonic to help him gather up the escapees and stop whatever it is that they have planned. But that's easier said than done when Zonic is constantly getting distracted by how pretty Sonic's eyes are…"_

**Anyway reviews are awesome motivators,**

**trancepanda**


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